


Tear

by the_void_fox



Series: Keith Week 2016 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Illness, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Nightmares, Vague implications of it anyway, sad keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_void_fox/pseuds/the_void_fox
Summary: Day 1: Angerverb,1. To break apart by force.2. To distress greatly.3. To move with violent energy.noun,1. A violent outburst or flurry.2. A rent or fissure.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set at an indeterminate point post-season one finale, after everyone is rescued. Sort-of implied Galra!Keith.

Another day, another sleepless night, and it’s Shiro who finds him in the training area, whaling away at a punching bag. In a very mature and controlled manner, as a matter of fact. Okay, so maybe he might have looked a bit feral, but it’s not his fault he was born with that face.

 

Anger comes so easily to a face like his.

 

Shiro looks worried as he moves to the nearby mats and begins his morning exercises, eyes straying to where the wrappings around Keith’s knuckles and feet are beginning to fray from the speed and sheer number of blows he’s landed. So what? If they break, he’ll just get new ones. There’s plenty around. Now if he can just finish his workout and leave without Shiro being all-

 

‘You okay, Keith?’

 

Damn it.

 

He grunts in reply, hoping it’s just noncommittal enough for his brother to leave him alone. Stepping back from the bag for a few ticks, he sucks in gulps of air, glaring at nothing as he is wont to do. Shiro is watching him with a slightly worried expression, and Keith huffs as he considers the fact that Lance’s “Space Dad” jokes may not be too far off. Though if he had a say, he’d state that Shiro is kind of more of a ”Space _Mom_ ”.

‘Keith.’  
‘I’m fine.’  
‘You’re not the first person to say that to me today, and you won’t be the last. What’s wrong?’  
‘Nothing,’ Keith mutters through gritted teeth, catching the worried-disappointed face that Shiro reserves especially for him out of the corner of his eye.

 

Why is his brother like this?

Keith swings a blind jab at the bag and meets solid metal, Shiro’s arm blocking the shot. ‘Talk to me.’  
‘No.’  
‘Keith.’ He knows that tone. Shiro is having none of his crap right now. Well, too bad. ‘You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll talk!’

 

He stomps away from the punching bag, picking up a towel and wiping the sweat from his face and neck. ‘How about we talk about the fact that you’ve basically been ignoring me since you got back?!’  
‘Ignoring you?’  
‘ _Yes,_ ’ oh, and now Keith can feel the pit in his stomach boiling with rage. He knows he should heed the warnings, but he’s never been the best at control. ‘You haven’t made any attempt to reconnect, despite me asking you many times if we could just talk for a while!’

 

And in the back of his mind he knows it’s a step too far, but he’s in one of his famous flare-ups and there is absolutely no stopping his venomous tongue - ‘My brother went missing, Shiro. Somebody else came back and I have no idea who he is, and he doesn’t even seem to care, so maybe this imposter can just get lost and leave me _alone_.’

 

There is dead silence in the room, before their faces morph into vicious monsters as they leap at each other letting out savage screams of rage and all he can see is violet fur and glowing eyes and-

 

\- and then Keith wakes up, shaking, tears streaming down his face. It’s too cold, and his throat feels as if he’s swallowed gravel. There’s a rustle beside him, and Shiro’s concerned face hovers in his field of vision. ‘Hey, you’re awake. You had me worried for a while there.’

‘What-‘ Keith’s breath hitches, harsh coughs racking his slender frame as he hunches over, a pained whimper forcing its way from his throat. ‘What happened?’

 

Shiro winces at Keith’s hoarse voice, slowly rubbing circles on his brother’s back. ‘You collapsed at practice. Some kind of space flu. I’m so glad you’re awake; your temperature was borderline dangerous before.’

 

Just a dream. Just a fever dream.

 

‘Keith? Are you okay?’  
‘No,’ he manages to choke out, and Shiro’s concern grows, checking his temperature. ‘You don’t seem to be improving. I should get Coran and see if there’s any medicine we can give you.’ The black paladin turns to go, and Keith is a little ashamed of the way he grabs at his brother’s metal hand, clinging to him like a child. ‘No! No, don’t leave, don’t!’

 

Shiro’s eyes widen as Keith’s eyes overflow, and he’s back at the smaller boy’s side in an instant, making calming sounds as his fingers find dark hair and card through it. It’s as if Keith is nine years old again and still so afraid, afraid of the dark, of the people who hurt him and the ones who left him alone, of the feeling of alienation that had been forced on him. The leader’s heart aches as his little brother ( _always his little brother_ ) shakes and cries in his arms, and he holds the boy as tight as Keith is comfortable with, the movement ingrained into his memory from many, many long nights protecting a little boy from the terrors in his own mind. ‘Want to talk about it?’

 

Keith stills, and Shiro frowns. _That’s unusual_.

‘Not.. not right now…’  
‘Okay. That’s fine. We’ll talk in the morning, alright?’  
‘… Alright.’

 

Shiro helps him get comfortable again, tucking the blankets around his trembling body (his fever is still burning and it reminds him of his rage). The comforting hand is running through his hair again, and Keith just wants to sleep, but the memory of his dream nips at his heels and flashes behind his eyes. ‘Takashi?’

The black paladin startles a little at the use of his first name, but his voice is gentle and his hand doesn’t falter in its slow circuit across Keith’s scalp. ‘Hm?’  
‘I forgive you…’ comes the mumbled admission, before the boy drifts off completely, the worry easing from his face in sleep.

 

His brother stays with him until the morning when his fever breaks.

 

And Keith doesn’t dream.

 

Perhaps that’s just as well.

**Author's Note:**

> tear, noun.
> 
> 1\. A drop of liquid secreted from the eye, often in response to strong emotions such as fear or grief.


End file.
